


Leave your mark on me

by Kendrene



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bassiq's lawyers will sue me for emotional damage, Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Breeding, Come Marking, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Nudity, and it's intentional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: When during a meeting an ambassador makes a thinly-veiled suggestion Lexa may not be alpha enough to give Clarke pups, Lexa is determined to prove him wrong.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 647





	Leave your mark on me

**Author's Note:**

> The world is shit right now, and sometimes we just need an half hour of smut to take our minds off what happens outside. 
> 
> Stay safe, keep fighting.
> 
> \- Dren

Having Lexa as her mate entailed more benefits than Clarke had expected, but being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for an urgent audience was one she’d rather do without.

“You know you’re not required to attend, right  _ niron _ ?” Lexa paused by the bed to stare wistfully at the empty spot next to where Clarke still lounged. “I can handle the Ambassador myself.” 

“I know, Lexa. But I was told that as your mate, I’m practically one with you, and tradition—” 

“ _ Gah _ !” It was unusual for Lexa to openly question grounder customs. She preferred to engineer slow change, and the shifts were always subtle. The late hour must have made her irritable. “You sound just like Titus.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

Kicking the furs away, Clarke swung her legs out of bed and stood, blinking the last sticky traces of sleep out of her eyes. 

“I know I don’t have to accompany you,” she said once she’d stopped yawning. “But I will. Because I want to.” The water in the wash basin was cold enough to make her teeth chatter, but she splashed her face liberally, fighting off another yawn. After, she felt a little more awake. 

Lexa inclined her head and conceded the point in the only way an alpha in her position could push themselves to do — by handing Clarke the clay pot of  _ kohl  _ and a brush, eyes mutedly asking for her to apply it. 

Getting Lexa ready for her duties was something that was required of Clarke — Titus made routinely sure to remind her she was to serve Heda in all things — but something Clarke also looked forward to. Before she and Lexa had mated, the task had fallen to a group of handmaidens, and while Josie and the rest were certainly quicker than she, they’d sort of taken Clarke under their wing and had been more than happy to teach her what was required. 

Even though all that was left to do tonight was take care of the warpaint, Clarke still found it intimate. When she pointed to a stool next to the guttering fire, Lexa sat on it obediently, tilting her face up for the brush and holding still until she was done. 

“Done,” she said, giggling a little when Lexa turned her face to plant a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Careful, love. If you smudge it, I’ll have to redo the whole thing.”

Lexa grinned, and kissed her wrist again just because she could.

“I hope this won’t take too long—” One of her hands fell to her lap, and her eyes grew dark. “I had other plans for us tonight.” Clarke looked down, knees growing weak when she noted how Lexa’s pants had tightened at the crotch.

“Let’s hope so,” she husked, wetting her lips. She couldn’t wait for the moment Lexa would drag her back beneath the furs. 

Her own preparations were much simpler, as this was a private audience and she was not required to wear any of the trappings that came with her position. While she bound her breasts, Lexa rummaged in the trunk at the foot of the bed, digging out a comfortable-looking pair of pants and a tunic she could wear. The clothes were well-made and serviceable, yet Heda had managed to pick something that would compliment her eyes. At the sight, Clarke couldn’t help but smile. 

Soon enough, they were exiting Heda’s apartments, heading to the throne room. 

“Which one is this?” Clarke asked, secretly hoping for Edric or sharp-tongued Illyria. Broadleaf and mysterious Delphi had long been part of the Coalition, and their customs — while different from Trikru’s — were less foreign than those of some other clans. In their presence, Clarke was Heda’s wife, and not ‘the girl from the sky’. Besides, Edric always brought her sweets. 

“Sankru.” 

“Ugh.” She grimaced. “Is it too late for me to go back to bed?” 

Bassiq, the Ambassador for Sankru, was a difficult man to deal with in the best of times. Him asking to see Heda in the middle of the night wasn’t a good sign. His clan had been one of the last to join Lexa’s Coalition, and from what Clarke had had the chance to observe, he and Azgeda often spoke with one voice. Or, as Illyria had not-so-subtly pointed out to her once, he spoke  _ for  _ Azgeda, whenever the northern clan had use for a puppet. 

“What does he want?” They were passing by a set of gaping windows, and she shivered, wishing she’d had the presence of mind to bring along her fur-lined cloak. For all that spring should have come a good month since, the wind carried a chill as though it would rather bear snow. 

“He wouldn’t tell the guards.” Lexa adjusted her sash and sighed. “Nothing good, I’ll wager.”

This late at night, the halls were empty save for them and the gaggle of personal guards who shadowed the Commander everywhere. It was a sharp contrast to the bustle daylight brought. When the sun was up, the Tower’s winding corridors were filled with people; delegations from each clan lived within, and Lexa received a steady stream of petitioners each day. Representatives of the merchant guilds asking her to fix a ceiling price for certain goods, so that nobody could gain unfair advantages. Minor tribes squabbling over a patch of fertile land. Their days were often busy, always rushed from one meeting to the next. As they walked to the throne room, Clarke let herself appreciate the quiet. 

Just before they reached the double doors leading to it, Lexa stopped and placed a hand on Clarke’s forearm, halting her as well. 

“I’d like you to do something for me, Clarke. Will you?”

“Always.”

“Thank you.” Lexa shot a glance toward the doors. She smelled of wariness. “Watch him closely. Bassiq may have asked to see me so late thinking you wouldn’t attend, and your presence could throw him off. Perhaps he’ll reveal more than he intends to.” 

Without waiting any further, Lexa pushed one of the doors open, Clarke hard on her heels.

Inside, only a few torches had been lit, and their glow was not enough to light up the entire space. It impressed Clarke how different the room looked in the night; an echoing, cavernous space which felt bigger than it actually was. 

Bassiq stood at the foot of the dais, waiting for them. When the entire council was summoned, the Ambassadors sat in a semicircle, facing the Commander on her throne. No chair had been set up for him tonight, but if he was bothered by the omission, he gave no outward sign.

“Heda.” He touched a hand to his forehead, in the greeting common to his clan. Clarke, he simply nodded at. 

“Bassiq.” Lexa ascended to the throne and sat down, crossing her legs. “It is very late.” 

“It is.” Bassiq’s voice was dry, just like the rest of him. “Apologies, Heda.” 

Clarke, who had taken up position a few paces behind the Commander’s throne, where the torchlight didn’t reach, thought he was not sorry at all.

“I’m sure you have a good reason.” She couldn’t quite see Lexa’s face from where she stood, but she could imagine it. Clarke had watched her sit in audiences enough times to know she’d be completely still, brows drawn in thought. Green eyes so intent on Bassiq he’d be thinking he was the most important person in the world as far as Heda was concerned. It was a trick, Lexa had explained to her once. People, she’d said, have a need to be heard, and a good leader must learn to look the part. Even when their words bore said leader out of their wits, she’d added, and smiled. 

Clarke didn’t listen to what was being said — something about water rights, of which she knew nothing at all — and instead focused on the task Lexa had given her. 

Bassiq’s sun-roughened face gave away little, but he grew animated as he spoke. A trim man, he would have been handsome if not for his manners, or lack thereof. With Heda, he made sure not to overstep, but Clarke had seen how he treated servants. There were other rumors about him, too, most of them dark. 

“So you see the issue, Heda,” he was saying, with an ingratiating smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Broadleaf won’t—” 

“Shouldn’t Broadleaf be here, if we’re to discuss water rights?” Lexa interjected. “I could have Edric join us?” 

“That won’t be necessary, Heda. If you’d allow me to show you on a map, the matter would become clearer.” His tone didn’t change, but as he reached inside one of his tunic’s ample sleeves to retrieve a folded piece of parchment, Clarke noticed he’d gone white around the eyes. His hand held the map too tightly, the yellow paper creasing. He didn’t seem to be aware of it, perhaps too angry that Lexa had seen right through his schemes. 

They droned on, Bassiq shaking out the map and pointing at colored lines Clarke assumed marked each clan’s territory, Lena leaning forward, chin resting on a closed fist. 

Clarke tried to pay attention for a while, but the topic was a boring one, and tiredness didn’t help. Soon her mind began to drift, and she fought to keep her eyes open. They went at it for quite some time; Bassiq hashed the same point with insistence, and Lexa politely refuted it. 

In circles they went, until Clarke’s head began to pound with the absurdity of it. Regret over leaving their bed grew. She shifted, trying to ease some of the soreness that came with standing still for so long, and Bassiq glanced her way, muttering something she couldn’t quite catch. 

Lexa didn’t seem to share that problem.

“I beg your pardon?” 

There was a sharpness to the air all of a sudden that shook her into alertness. 

Bassiq was still holding up the map, she saw, but the oily smile he’d worn before was nowhere to be seen. With one hand he plucked at the black sand-veil hanging round his neck as though he meant to don it. Clarke tensed. She’d heard from one of Heda’s warriors that it was customary for Sangedakru to shroud their face before violence.

Lexa had not risen from her seat, but something compelled Clarke into fixating on her hands. They’d tightened on the arms of her throne, and they shook over the carved wood ever so slightly. Heda seldom gestured while she spoke, but in the months since becoming her mate, Clarke had grown attuned to her. Enough to pick up on the small signs of her exasperation — drumming fingers, or a clenched jaw — to which Lexa’s strict economy of motion did not apply. 

“Forgive me, Heda. but I don’t know what you—” 

“I will not.” Turning her head, Lexa threw a look in Clarke’s direction and beckoned her forward. “I’d rather you repeat what you just said. Louder this time, so that my mate can hear as well.” 

“Heda, really. I said nothing. The late hour...” 

Bassiq hastened to roll up his map as he spoke, and never quite met Lexa’s eye. Shoulders hunched, his gaze darted at everything but them, like he was searching for a way out. 

Taking one look at Lexa’s face, Clarke could very well see why. 

A great shadow had fallen over Lexa’s features, as though thunderclouds had gathered overhead, and her lip was curled, almost baring her teeth. She stared Bassiq down with eyes that flashed close to open anger. 

Her gaze was so heated it was a wonder the Ambassador’s robes hadn’t caught fire. 

Heda’s scent had shifted, too. Gone was the smell of warm bed sheets and sleepiness, replaced by a wave of pheromones that thickened the air, makinging it near unbreathable. Aggression rolled off of her, scraping Clarke’s skin raw like boiling water. Her inner omega began to awaken, and she inched closer to Lexa, releasing soothing pheromones of her own. Had they been alone, she’d have offered physical comfort as well, but she could not do that in Bassiq’s presence. It would weaken Lexa in his eyes. Whatever he’d said to have provoked such a reaction, it must be bad. She’d never seen the restraint Lexa clad herself in slip so completely. 

She didn’t really want to know what he’d said. 

“I’m quite sure of what I heard, Bassiq. But I think my  _ mate  _ did not.” Lexa stressed the word in a way that had Clarke’s heart seize up a little. “Perhaps you should illuminate her.”

Bassiq studied Clarke over the bridge of his nose. It must have been broken in the past, because it was somewhat crooked, lending a hawk-like quality to his expression. 

Dark grey eyes lingered on her a tad too openly, and his mouth twitched on the precipice of a leer. He was an alpha, just like Lexa, but surely he knew better than ogling someone else’s mate. Especially Heda’s own. 

His jaws opened and closed without producing sound, but finally, he dipped his head, cowed by Lexa’s unwavering gaze. When he spoke, it felt as though each word was being dragged from him.

“I...ahhh… joked that a litter would perhaps improve Heda’s judgement on some matters.” Clarke glared, but the flush rising to her cheeks was ruining the effect. 

“That wasn’t all,” Lexa snapped through gritted teeth. “Tell her the rest.” 

“I—” Bassiq blinked and purpled, hackles rising. “Is this necessary, Heda? I admit I spoke out of turn, but I won’t stand being treated for a—” 

“A fool?” Lexa cut him off, eyes reduced to jet-black slits beneath the warpaint. The kohl sharpened her features, and even though Heda’s rage wasn’t directed at her, Clarke leaned back. “You shouldn’t have acted like one then. Tell her the rest.” 

She hadn’t moved an inch, but it was clear from her tone that if he didn’t obey there would be consequences.

“I also said I’d be happy to help, if Heda found herself too busy.” 

The bashful heat that had pinkened Clarke’s cheeks deepened to red, and she felt her own eyes harden. 

“I am unfamiliar with your customs, Ambassador.” She stepped closer to Lexa, and placed a hand on the throne, close enough that her mate would feel her presence without the need for direct touch. “However I don’t find your joke funny at all.” 

“ _ Skaiprisa _ …I…” Clarke didn’t care to hear Bassiq’s excuses. She caught Lexa’s eye and shook her head. 

“Out.” Lexa's snarl stifled his protests. “Or I will throw you out.” 

“Heda, if you allowed me to apologize, I—” Bassiq raised his hands in a placating gesture, cringing away when Lexa stood and leapt down the dais in one fluid motion.

“You’ve heard her,” Clarke said as her mate advanced on the Ambassador, forcing him back toward the door. “You don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you stay.” The last man who’d tried Bassiq’s dangerous game had swiftly discovered how tall the Tower truly was. The Ambassador’s eyes flicked back to her, a round-eyed look this time, pleading and full of fear. Lexa had backed him halfway to the door, but Clarke could smell the foul reek of it regardless. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. 

Clarke offered a warmless smile and threw a fake-casual glance over her shoulder, to the murk behind the throne and the vertiginous drop beyond. As if on cue, a sudden gust of wind parted the heavy curtains that hid the night from view, and a slice of moonlight ripped through the darkness. Bassiq followed her gaze, and his face drained of all color.

“ _ OUT _ !” Spittle flying from her lips, Lexa grabbed him by the lapels of his robe, dragging him the last few steps to the door. Despite him being twice the size of the Commander, Lexa hauled him along with ridiculous ease, and the show of strength sent a primal thrill to Clarke’s omega. 

A wave of slick dampened her underthings, and she wanted him gone, but not for the offense he’d caused them. 

Her wish was fulfilled a moment later. Pulling the door open, Lexa threw Bassiq outside, slamming it shut right on his heels. 

After, she stood with her head lowered, panting like she’d raced for miles. Her fury was a storm that singed Clarke’s lungs and sent aroused delight shooting to her core. She hurried to her mate’s side, and stopping a respectful step away, showed Lexa her throat. The alpha was too riled up for Clarke to offer anything other than submission. 

“I should have him flayed,” she muttered hotly. “ _ How dare he? _ ”

“He’s dealt with now,” Clarke soothed, daring to inch forward. Lexa voiced another savage growl. Her eyes were still all pupil. 

Clarke whimpered, and couldn’t help the flood of wetness drenching her pussy. She took another step and whined again, low and full of need. One final cautious step, and she was pressed to Lexa’s heaving chest, staring up in those tumultuous eyes. The alpha was still hard, perhaps more than she’d been back in their bedroom, her possessiveness showing through the tented front of her breeches. Clarke rejoiced in the discovery and let one hand fall down to cup her.

Lexa’s nostrils flared, and her eyes slowly returned to their usual forest green. 

“Let’s prove him wrong,” Clarke whispered, standing on her tiptoes so she could kiss her chin. “Let’s show him you don’t need any help to make me round with pups.” Under her questing fingertips, Lexa’s cock gave a sharp throb of agreement. 

Her mate’s gaze darkened again, lust quick to replace rage. 

“Come.” She grabbed Clarke by her wrist and led her back toward the throne. 

A scent similar to that of Lexa’s rut filled Clarke’s nose, making her body quicken further. It was too early of course, their cycle wouldn’t come till the next moon, but Bassiq’s base insinuations had sparked primal urges in them both. Lexa’s desire to stake her claim was almost palpable, and inside her chest, Clarke’s omega was keening to be bred. 

Left to her own devices, Lexa would bend her over the throne and fuck her raw, until she’d spent every last drop inside the tight channel of her cunt and swelled her womb. But, as much as she craved the stretch and the fullness to come, Clarke had other ideas.

“Sit down.” When Lexa stared uncomprehendingly, she guided her onto the throne with gentle hands. “I want to be covered in your cum before you breed me.” Bassiq’s coarse stare had felt like a stain on her skin, and she wanted it scrubbed clean. 

Lexa seemed to understand. She pulled her close, kissing her with a fierceness that left Clarke’s lips sore and red, but did as she was told. 

Heda lounged back, only to perch on the edge of her seat when Clarke began to disrobe for her. In normal times, Clarke would have stripped slowly to tease Lexa, but she doubted her mate would have the patience for it. She was too riled up from the confrontation, and as soon as Clarke had bared her breasts for her, she'd started to fight with the leather strings holding her breeches closed. 

While Clarke kicked away her pants, Lexa fished herself out, thumb circling her cock’s swollen head. She was stiff with need, and a few even pumps of her fist had her shaft completely smeared in pre-cum. 

"On your knees," she ground out between clenched teeth, gaze hooded. 

Clarke would have done the same without being told. 

If Lexa expected her to take the proffered length into her mouth, however, she was about to be severely disappointed. Clarke cupped the swell of her own breasts, and angling her chest just so, she created a soft, pillowy sheath for Lexa’s eager cock where her alpha would be free to rut into. 

“Klark?” They’d never done something like it before, and Lexa seemed a little slow on the uptake. Her timbre had climbed in pitch, and her accent became more prominent.

“I told you I wanted you to mark me with your cum.” Letting her head bob forward, Clarke briefly closed her lips around the flaring head that poked between her breasts, sucking hard. Lexa groaned, hips canting upward, but before she could push more than a few inches in her mouth, Clarke had retreated, contenting herself with delicate flicks of the tongue on the Commander’s heated flesh. “And when you’ve made me your breeding bitch, I want you to call Bassiq back in, so we can show him how a  _ true _ alpha satisfies their mate.” She’d never used such filthy talk in bed with Lexa either, and felt more than a bit silly for it, but judging from the way Heda looked at her, it was having the desired effect. 

“Yes.” Lexa raised her hips again, moaning at the frisson of Clarke’s flesh against her cock. “You’ll look so beautiful coated in my seed.” She thrust with conviction now, the initial hesitation completely forgotten, and the obscene slide of her cock against Clarke’s creamy skin was mesmerizing. For her part, Clarke tried to resist, but the instinctual calls within her were too great. Her mouth was watering for another taste, and when Lexa’s throbbing length was pushed into her face, she let her mouth fall open, taking all of the head inside. 

The stimulus was now two-fold. She swirled her tongue to lash at the tip, intent on coaxing every last drop of pre-cum out of Lexa that she could. With her hands, she guided her breasts up and down along the shaft, her flesh gliding against it in a massaging motion. 

Soon enough, the rut of Lexa’s hips became erratic. Whimpers and shallow breathing filled the air above Clarke’s head — a song that the Commander was unable, or unwilling to silence. 

“Fuck, Clarke! I’m gonna—” A violent pulse raced up her cock, starting at the base. Clarke knew what it meant, and let the head slip from her mouth with a wet pop. 

“Come all over me.” She squeezed her breasts around the base of Lexa’s cock and dragged them upwards, forcing the pressure along. “ _ Please _ , Lexa!” She closed her eyes and tilted her face to catch the flood. 

Their eyes locked — Lexa’s stormy green, meeting lancet blue — and Clarke’s mate started to convulse. She arched off of her seat, only holding onto it by the sheer stubborness of her hands, every muscle locked as she crested into release. There was a strangled scream, a roar of rage and lust that sent a shudder down Clarke’s spine and fire licking up her thighs, then the first spurts of cum splashed over her skin. 

Her breasts were inundated under pearlescent waves, more spattered her face. She gobbled what she could, slick gushing from her sex onto the floor as it spasmed and clenched in anticipation.

“Mine!” Lexa was still coming when she pulled Clarke up and on her lap. She was coming, but her cock was iron-hard, and Clarke wondered whether Bassiq’s ill-advised attempt at provocation had triggered an early rut inside the brooding warlord. 

Not that anyone would catch her complaining about it. 

“ _ MINE _ !” Lexa rasped next to her ear, and bit a fresh mark over the one that already scarred her throat.

There was no foreplay, no gentleness to what Lexa did next. She dug rough fingers in Clarke’s hips, gripping her hard enough that off-purple bruises bloomed under her touch, and forced her down onto her cock with furious impatience. This was no slow, hours-long lovemaking. It was the frenzied joining of a breeding, and Clarke welcomed it with a hoarse moan. 

She drove down with her hips, and as the Commander entered her, air rushed out of her in a loud gasp. The stretch was painful for a moment, agony that colored her vision red. When the fog lifted, she threw her arms around Lexa’s neck, and began riding her, head thrown back and mouth open in a soundless scream. 

“Take it!” Lexa bit off, and captured her mouth for a kiss that left them both lightheaded. “I’m going to give you twins— no! Triplets!” An image of her belly heavy with such a bountiful litter zipped through Clarke’s lust-addled mind, and she nearly came from it.

“Yes!” She sucked a deep bruise of her own under Lexa’s earlobe. “Make me round with child, Lexa!”

“I’ll keep your belly always full.” Heda promised, one hand splayed over Clarke’s straining abdomen. They both knew it was a fantasy, but the words were incendiary, and the already intense pace increased. “I’ll give you so many pups, Clarke!” 

Another orgasm was looming over them. It vibrated in their bones. She slammed down into Lexa so hard the slap of their hips filled the night.  _ Good _ — she wanted the whole of Polis to hear what they were doing. 

“Le—xa!” She went rigid, spine bowed to the point of breaking, toes curled. Her cunt tightened around Lexa’s generous girth until she could feel every vein pulse against her walls. She faltered, flailed, one hand finding purchase on the throne and gripping so hard the wood splintered and cut her palm. The skin of her hand sliced open, but the pain of it was distant, as though it was happening to somebody else. 

Jets of hot cum were filling her, Lexa emptying into the silky channel of her cunt until she had run dry. All that Clarke could do was sob into her alpha’s chest, shake and tremble as Lexa bred her. 

“Yours,” she whined and rubbed her tear stained cheek on Lexa’s shirt. “Yours, Lexa.” 

Lexa wrapped strong arms around her without speaking. Eventually, her scent softened, and Clarke found herself cradled. She tucked her head under the roof of Lexa’s chin and sighed, soaking in her mate’s body warmth. 

“I’m sorry for the mess.” She barked a weak laugh, and attempted to brush off some of the mess of tears and cum dirtying Lexa’s sash. The thorough fucking had left her pleasantly sore, but also oddly vulnerable. Perhaps her heat would arrive sooner than expected, too.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lexa reassured, kissing the tip of her nose. Then, her eyes dropped to Clarke’s injured hand, and she let loose a low hiss. “You’re hurt.” Her eyes went from the gash on Clarke’s palm to the broken wood of the throne and back. “Let me see.” 

Before Clarke could voice a protest, she was examining her hand, fussing over it as if it were a mortal injury. She tried to pull away, but Lexa wouldn’t let her, tearing a strip of sash that had remained miraculously clean to wrap it around the wound. 

“We should head back to our rooms so I can tend to it properly.” Lexa groused, holding her like she was made of the most delicate glass. “It could get infected.” 

“As soon as Bassiq has learned his lesson,” Clarke reminded her, eyes flashing. 

Lexa rested their foreheads together, pushing a fond smile. 

“It’s hot when you’re vindictive,” she admitted, and another spurt of cum followed the words. 

It took no time at all to have Bassiq brought back to them. 

When the guards ushered him in, Lexa was still snug inside of Clarke. He took one look at her, sitting on the Commander’s lap with her entire front covered in glistening cum, and hurriedly lowered his gaze, ears so red they looked about ready to fall off.

“Now.” Lexa pinched one of Clarke’s puckered nipples between thumb and forefinger, eliciting a moan. The noise was purposefully drawn out, exaggerated, only so that she could watch Bassiq squirm with unease. “Here’s what you are going to do about Broadleaf’s newly acquired water-rights…” 

**Author's Note:**

> join me[ on Tumblr](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/) for more gay nonsense!


End file.
